To His Extremes
by Mash17
Summary: Matt/Jen. Matt finds himself slipping up when he's pushed to his extremes. Some parts as close to fluff as I can manage... some parts not so fluffy... Note the rating change... nothing X rated, just some lang.
1. Prologue Matt's POV

Disclaimer: An Anglo-French word, from _desclamer,_ from _des-_ "dis-" + _clamer_ – "to call, claim" meaning to disavowal or a denial of ownership, first recorded 1790

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From the first day he met her, Matthew Ryan knew that she was going to drive him to his extremes. He knew acknowledging this wasn't really going to help him, so he tried to forget it, tried to forget her, but he knew from the beginning that trying to forget her wasn't going to work. He worried about this, he worried and fretted and stressed about the day she would push him closer to the edge.

Because, you see, the few things that he'd picked up from his mother before her disappearance had stuck with him his entire life. The most prominent of these was her language, and Matthew knew that reaching the edge of his extremes always involved him forgetting himself and where he was and break out in broken Italian. It embarrassed him. He hated that once he got truly riled up; or stressed out; or rather tired he automatically switched from English to the language of his youth.

Matt had always intended to keep his intimate knowledge of the language of love from his friends and co-workers. He thought it gave him this stigma, a giant sign over his head screaming 'DIFFERENT'. A title that he'd always avoided.

Little did he know that it was his language skills that would slowly win him the heart of the woman who constantly drove him to his extremes.

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So I'm intending this to be a couple of short one-shots, all from Jen's POV ('cept the prologue of course)- multi-chaptered- all up in the next few weeks.

Opinions and feedback always welcome-

Love you all  
Mashee


	2. Sweet Dreams

Disclaimer: Why would I deny my ownership? I own City Homicide. It's all mine… Yeah Right.

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_**Sweet dreams**_

Jen walked into the locker-room, physically, mentally and emotionally fatigued. Sinking down onto the long bench that separated the room, she closed her eyes, wishing that she was home, sitting on her bead or couch rather than on the hard, narrow bench. Another case solved by the Homicide squad. She should be out celebrating, another killer behind bars, the streets a little safer for a while, but she was just too tired.

Shifting her body from a sitting position to a laying one, Jen's eyes fluttered and she felt her body slowly giving in to the sweet temptation of sleep. Relaxing, she experienced the strange sensation of slowly drifting away from consciousness into a state of complete peace and tranquillity.

Jen tensed slightly as she heard light footsteps approach her but was too far separated from consciousness to react. She needn't of worried thought. The footsteps stopped in front of her and a person kneel down beside her. A voice whispered her name and, when she didn't respond, laid a warm suit jacket over her. She knew the voice, and the scent that wafted from the warmth of the jacket.

Matt Ryan brushed the hair from her face and, leaning down to be next to her ear, whispered, "_Buonanotte, Dormi bene, Sogni d'oro"_. His voice broke with his attempts to stay in a low whisper, his emotions running wild with her sleeping form so close to his person. He could smell her perfume, a sweet mix of mandarin and orange blossom, citrus and peach. A subtle sweetness shared by it's wearer. Hesitating he stood, looking down at her with indescribable longing, thinking that her quiet, sleeping form was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Just then he registered his language slip, blushing, he looked around to make sure no one else had shared the experience. Shaking his head he turned and left Jen to her dreams.

When he was gone, Jen shifted her head slightly. Although puzzled by his words as she had no idea if they were a kaleidoscope of her imagination or if he'd spoken to her in another language. Snoring softly, a grin plastered on her sleeping face, her dreams were filled with images of the owner of the warm jacket, protecting her from the outside world.

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Oooooh :P  
Buonanotte, Dormi bene, Sogni d'oro = good night, sleep well, sweet dreams

Thanks for all the encouraging reviews- y'all have no idea how inspiring you are.

Mashee


	3. Are You OK?

Disclaimer:... well duh, obviously not mine...

**_

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_**

**_Are You Ok?_**

Shock. Every cop's worst nightmare. The involuntary reaction to surprise, excess adrenaline, or, as Jennifer Mapplethorpe had just found out, having a gun waved in her face. It was unbelievable how small an action could push her to this state.

Standing in the middle of their suspect's driveway, Jennifer reflected that she might look rather strange; the rain coming down in waves, her hair plastered to face, neck and back, her clothes soaked through. For her, time had slowed and everybody was running around her in fast motion, their movements blurred in comparison to her unmoving state, running past her unseeing eyes.

Gazing out towards the residential street she didn't notice a presence behind her. Matt Ryan stood as close to his friend as he dared, breathing in the scents of her perfume, the wetness of her suit and the sweaty by-products of her shock. Gently he scraped her hair off her face and neck and, when he realised that there was no part of her that was not soaking wet, laid it across her shoulder.

"Sta bene? Jennifer?" Concern filled his voice, making it waver slightly. His accent was thick and although Jennifer couldn't understand him, the question was filled with hope and care, comforting her. Matt walked around until he stood directly beside her, his eyes locked on the side of her face, looking at her eyes, staring sightlessly into the distance. "Jen? Sta bene?"

He looked directly at her, not even registering his slip, or if noticing, not caring; he waited for a reaction, some small indication that she could hear him. She blinked twice, quickly, in succession, her lips open slightly, then closed again and he took this to be his sign.

Suddenly she shivered violently, the movement involuntary and in reaction to her surprise, her hand shot swiftly up and slipped inside Matt's much larger and warmer grasp, needing the touch of him to keep her grounded. Looking down at their joined hands, he squeezed gently and smiled as she lightly returned the gesture.

Contently, Matt let the pouring rain bucket down on the two of them; understand that Jen was too fragile to move from that place until she had come to terms with the events of the previous hour. Breathing in heavily, he turned his head so that he could watch her stare into the world in front of them.

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**Stai bene?: **Are you ok?

Well here's the next bit… I love all your comments and feedback (etc.) Oh and RyanThorpe: What a great idea, I've been dying to find out if her was telling her the truth about what her said. In my wildest dreams, he's actually telling her that her loves her pasionately and will forever… actually that would make a great fic…

Much Love-  
Mashee.


	4. Don't Worry About It

Hope everyone had a fantastic Christmas and spent the time relaxing into a coma-like state…

Disclaimer: Unfortunally I own no part of City Homicide because Santa didn't bring me the one thing on my Christmas List- Matty Ryan's smile… (sheeesh, my God I'm a hopeless romantic… somebody slap me!)

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**"_Don't Worry About It"_**

It wasn't unusual for Matt to invite Jen back to his home after the completion of a case. For them it was a form of closure, similar to the one found at the bottom of a glass at the pub.

Stepping into the kitchen, Jen gently placed her bag onto the table and leant, elbows down, chin in her palms, against the bench, as Matt searched the fridge for something to drink. As usual, the house was pleasantly lit, clean and tidy, but Jen felt that there was something missing…

"Where's Emma? She's usually home before you, isn't she?" It felt like an imposition, almost like she was butting into his personal life, but the words were out there now, she couldn't take them back.

"Yeah, dunno, don't really care at the moment though. Can you grab a glass?" Matt emerged from the depths of his refrigerator, armed with two, almost empty soft drink bottles. "Definitely need to shop," he muttered to himself. "Sorry, Lemonade or Coke?" he apologised; holding up the bottles, grin on his face, rolling his eyes, inviting her to share the joke about his poor housekeeping skills.

"Lemon," Jen answered absentmindedly. _They're having problems? God, what do I say? Do I ignore it or do I comment?_ Avoiding his eyes, her gaze swept around the room. She looked across the kitchen towards the table, and, when she noticed something placed prominently in the middle, her mind was silenced.

"So…Um… Having problems, huh?" Her question was met with a non-committal grunt. "Ok then, so this would be a bad time to mention that?" She gestured to the table and the note placed in the middle, sitting there like a cruel centrepiece.

Matt's eyes flew to the table, and Jen noticed a wince shudder through his shoulders.

Jen busied herself with the drinks as Matt went to read the note. She had just disposed of the empty bottles and had picked up her Lemonade when Matt burst out with barely controlled outrage.

"That witch! That inconsiderate WITCH! How dare she!" he raged.

The shock that shot through Jen was indescribable, her eyes widened; her mouth dropped open and the glass in her hand slipped from her fingers. The smashing of the glass seemed to ground Matt's temper and he dashed to Jen's side to assure himself that she was uninjured.

"I'm so sorry, so sorry" she muttered over and over again, attempting to pick the shards of glass from the tiled floor, her every effort shot down by Matt, who would push her hands away every time she moved to help.

He didn't want her hurting herself and his fear that she would slice her fingers open on the mess was affecting his emotions, concentration, his very being.

"Just stop Jen, Non ti preoccupare…" he muttered, his voice sharper than he would have liked. Jen's hands stilled and Matt glanced up to see a look on her face that could only be described as 'startled deer'. "Jen…I…" he started, but Jen suddenly dashed from the room, slowing only to grab her bag on her journey to the front door and the safety of her car beyond that.

Matt half rose to stop her, but her knew that he'd never manage to catch her in time, let alone stop her. Sinking to the floor, his eyes roamed the war zone that was his kitchen, his mind puzzled to what could have caused Jen's sprint for freedom. He repeated the conversation in his mind. _Matthew, you idiot, she had no idea what you were saying, she probably thought you were mad at her. Get up you fool! _Matt smiled at the voice in his head, although it sounded just like his father, it had, to the best of his knowledge, lead him in the wrong direction. Sighing at the state of the floor, he began picking up the shards, then remembering the note that had been left for him, dropped the glass on the floor. _Emma deserves the mess_.

Grabbing his keys, Matt walked to the door; his mission to salvage the relationship with the one woman who was still talking to him.

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What started as a 100 word drabble turned into this... well whatever you wanna call it... am thinking that this needs to be continued... Ooooh to continue or not to continue… my dears it's up to you… REVIEW!

**Non ti preoccupare:** Don't worry about it

Love ya, Mashee


	5. I'm Sorry

Disclaimer: It should be noted that the below opinions expressed by the bored Mashee about the television program, _City Homicide_, of which she does not own, are not to be taken with anything but a grain of salt... and possibly a shot of tequila... and that the opinions are neither acurate nor intellectual in any way...

On a more happier note: just something small to tide you over until my muse realises that I have forfitted our game of hide-and-seek and comes out of her very clever, very sneaky hiding spot... For proof of my missing muse please see the blog attatched to my profile and if you have seen her, please send her home... She is fiercely missed.

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_**"I'm Sorry"**_

Jen didn't drive straight home after her encounter with Matt's temper, and, although her driving and her speed was erratic, her thoughts were as strong and as steady as stone. _Why was he so mad at me? Why did he keep pushing me away? What did I do wrong?_ These thoughts kept rushing though her mind like a broken record. It was to her shock and surprise that when she pulled into her quiet street that she saw Matt's car parked outside of her house, with Matt perched wearily on the brick reattaining wall that separated her neighbours front yard from her own.

As she pulled into her drive, Matt's head lifted to watch her park and secure the car, his eyes following her, interested in her every move, yet his shoulders and body language showing a tired and emotionally faltering persona.

As much as Jen wanted to comfort her friend, the anger and resentment from their last conversation flowed thickly through her and her pride prevented her from showing anything but disdain. "What? Here for another go at me?" She questioned tersely. She watched as he recoiled from her verbal blow, almost feeling sorry for him.

"No," was his simple response. She waited for an explanation, yet found none forthcoming. It must have been her exasperated glare that encouraged him to speak.

"Listen, I wasn't telling you off, or yelling at you back in the kitchen… I was… I was just worried that you were going to hurt yourself because you were shaking so bad… I was just saying don't worry about it, any of it… I didn't want you to hurt yourself…"

His speech and movements were jerky and disjointed, but they held a tone of truthfulness that convinced Jen of the sincerity of his words.

She sat down on the wall beside him and took one of his hands in hers. "Do you want to talk about it? About you and Emma, I mean." Again, she felt like she was prying but he needed to know that he had an ally in her.

Shaking his head, he looked at her mournfully. "I'm really sorry. Very sorry. Mi Dispiace." Making a face, he corrected himself. "That means I'm sorry."

He smiled as her laughter filled the air and as she laid her head on his shoulder, he was glad that he still had her as a friend, no matter how big of a fool he was.

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As obvious as this is:

**Mi dispiace: **I'm Sorry

Much love--- Mashee


	6. AN

This is just an authors note:

I am so very sorry that I haven't updated in such a long time, I just started a new year of school… Year 12… So 'exciting'. : P. I've half written the next chappy but when I get around to writing it something always comes up. ATM everything seems to be a little bit more important….

But until it's up, here's a little teaser:

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"I'm fine thanks, however, I was just wondering what to do with you,  
the woman who's been playing around with my boyfriend.  
Any ideas?" The sneer on her face couldn't be more pronounced."

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Love Mashee


	7. How dare you?

How Dare You?

Disclaimer: Well... I want Matt, despite the MASSIVE age gap, and I wouldn't mind the royalties, but I don't actually own the show.

AN: I'M DONE EXAMS! NO MORE SCHOOL FOREVER! YES! now I can put more effort into creating more ways for Matt and Jen to get together and for Emma to meet an untimely demise for ruining everything... MWHAHAHA...

(Oh... some swearing in this chappy... little eyes look away)

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It was just like every other day, not unusual in any way. Everyone but Matt and Jen were out, investigating, detecting, the usual. It was about two in the afternoon, and Jen decided that she desperately needed coffee. After catching Matt in the hallway to grab his order, she walked down to the car park and drove to her favourite coffee shop.

The only bad part of coffee shops, she thought, was the waiting in line part. It always seemed that if you order more than one cup, it took ten times as long to make.

"Jen is that you?" A voice sounded over the murmur of the shop's going on. Jen turned to find the source of the sound. Emma Treadgold stood right behind her, hands on hips, hair perfect, clothes splendid. Subconsciously, Jen smoothed her own hair and clothes, knowing the mess she looked.

"Hi Emma… How are you?" Jen was unsure to why Emma was looking at her the way she was. In fact, she had no idea to why Emma would even talk to her; their friendship had become stretched since Matt had come across that note weeks ago.

"I'm fine thanks; however, I was just wondering what to do with you, the woman who's been playing around with my boyfriend. Any ideas?" The sneer on her face couldn't be more pronounced.

It is needless to say that Jennifer was completely shocked. Stunned even. "Listen, Em… I have no idea what you're talking about, but I think you need to talk to Matt about your problems, not take you aggression out on me."

"We don't have any problems!" she seethed. "Except you maybe."

Jen opened her mouth to retaliate when the server called her name. Grabbing her coffee she dashed from the shop, entirely confused about what had happened.

The shocked and confused look upon her face lasted until she had made her way from the coffee shop back to the office

Matt looked up when he heard the lift doors open, and was confused to why she looked so strange. Silently she walked to the bullpen, passed him his coffee and sat down heavily at her own desk.

"Something wrong?" His interest was raised. She shook her head, obviously still rattled by whatever had happened.

A few minutes passed, Matt sipped his coffee, and Jen stared into the lid of her cup, seeming to hope that the plain white plastic held the answers to the problems at hand.

Matt opened his mouth to ask again, when Jen spoke up. "I feel silly, what she said obviously isn't true." A puzzled look crossed his face.

Jen glanced at his face, realising that more detail was necessary. "I ran into Emma at the coffee shop; your Emma, that is. She was in a foul mood, and… well… she accused me of…." Here her voice dropped to a whisper, "accused us of playing around… you know…"

Matt was shocked, and quite honestly, didn't know what to say. And so wisely didn't say anything.

Jen looked straight at him, eyes wide and full of tears. "It doesn't mean anything; I don't want a fuss made. I don't mean anything, you tell her and it just fuels her argument."

Although Matt understood her point, he didn't agree, but nodded to placate his worried friend. The rest of the day was spent in silence. Their colleagues noticed a slight tension between the two, but were too wrapped up in their own files and thoughts to following up on the change of attitudes evident within the room.

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When Matt walked through his front door, every fibre of his being was intent on getting to the bottom of Emma outburst at the coffee shop. Toeing his shoes off in the hall and dumping his bag and coat on the table, he stood, arms crossed, waiting for Emma to feel his presence. She turned from the sink to see him; leaving the water running, she walked across the room to greet him. Watching her stretch up to kiss his cheek, he stepped back to avoid the contact. She merely raised her eyebrows at him, a smirk beginning to form on her face.

"Figures, you probably got enough from you _friend_" she claimed.

Rolling his eyes, Matt stalked across the room to turn off the taps, partly to collect his thoughts, partly to keep himself from hitting something.

"Don't start that." He growled from between clenched teeth, "I heard you had a... chat with Jen today." He put the statement out there to see her reaction.

"Came crying to you, did she? Thought that you'd get all defensive on her behalf, and come to pretend to set me straight?"

It was the combination of her tone, her smirk and her stance that caused him to snap. Crossing the room, Matt grabbed both of her arms, dragging her close to him.

"How dare you!" he threatened in a low voice, "how dare you get up on your high horse insinuating anything between me and Jen when you're the one running around with anyone drunk enough to feel you up! Come osi? Hmm? Come osi?"

He pushed Emma away from him and launched himself up the stairs into their bedroom, grabbing his overnight case and stuffing it with the first clothes he could put his hands on.

Emma had been temporarily stunned by his outburst, too afraid to act immediately, but by the time Matt had filled his bag and was zipping it up, she had followed him up the stairs, screaming at him at the top of her lungs.

"THAT'S RIGHT! GO BACK TO YOUR WHORE!"

As she reached him, he turned; standing toe to toe, they glared at each other. Emma opened her mouth to speak, but Matt silenced her with a withering look and a cutting, biting statement.

"Don't call her a whore ever again. She's better than that. And if anyone's a whore around here, it's you."

And he turned and stopped down the stairs. Emma followed him.

"If I'm such a 'slut' why don't you leave me for her?" The smirk on her face had returned, knowing that he wouldn't leave her; it wasn't his style to leave, but to be left.

Matt stopped at the door after recovering his coat, workbag and shoes. "I would if I thought she'd have me," and slammed the heavy door behind him.

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Matt reversed his car out of the driveway and sped away intent on getting as far away from the house as was humanly possible, but by the time he had reached the main road, he had realised that he had nowhere to go. That was, except for Jen's, but he didn't really want to drag her further into his problems.

After driving around for a while, he realised he had no other option, and pointed his car in the direction of Jen's quiet oasis.

The knock on the door was the last thing that Jen expected as she packed her running shoes into her bag. Most people knew she had plans for her Thursday evenings. Shrugging at her reflection in the mirror, she turned to open the door. It was a surprise to see Matt standing dejectedly on the stoop, but as she mused, not entirely unexpected. She waited for him to speak, but after a few silent beats, she moved aside to allow him in.

"Matt? Is there something wrong?" She asked, concerned at his still silence. Matt was neither a silent nor still person, it wasn't in his nature or his personality.

"You know that note that you saw a few weeks back at my place?" He asked quietly after more than ten minutes of silent musing, in which Jen had observed the subtly signs of an internal struggle.

"You don't have to tell me anything Matt, I understand." She was curious to the issue as a whole, but didn't want to pry into the details.

"No, I have to. Basically it said that she was off having fun with her friends, who, I might add are apparently more attentive that I ever am, and that I should enjoy my time with you…. She calls you my…" and here he trailed off.

By this point, Jen had realised that there was no way that she could extract herself from their problems, and was sick of Matt attempting to protect her from his angry partner.

"She called me your… what? Lover? Floosy? Slut? What does she call me Matt? Am I your 'sex kitten'?" said asked, attempting to lighten the mood.

It didn't appear to work, and Matt lifted soulful eyes to meet hers. "She calls you my whore, she always has. It used to be joke; she used to turn her jealously of all time we spent together for work into a joke about how she was the cover for our illicit relationship… but that changed, she accused me of lying to her about working with you at all hours and stuff. If anything, she'd know about being deceitful." He looked directly at Jen. "I know about all of her flings… she practically parades them past me." He muttered.

Jen swallowed deeply. She had no idea that she was the root of all their problems. Guilt flooded through her.

"If I'm causing all that pain for you guys, I can back off, I'm a friend, not anything special." She promised. Anything she could do for Matt, she would, even leaving the friendship that she and Matt had built over the struggles they had faced together.

"NO!" he shouted, the first sign of emotions bubbling under the surface. "If I didn't have you, Jen, I'd…. I'd… well I don't really know, but that's not the point. I packed some stuff and I'm gonna stall away from the house for a while."

"Where are you going to stay? Cause you can stay here for as long as you like. I mean if it's not going to cause any more problems…" she trailed off, her cheeks turning pink at what Emma would make of Matt staying with her.

"Yeah, thanks" Matt muttered gratefully. He hadn't expected her to offer after everything he had told her. "Don't you play netball today?" he asked, the real world coming back into the focus.

"Yeah, but…"

"Go" he cut in, "don't let me ruin you day even more than I already have" he told her, ashamed.

She leaned up and kissed his forehead. "You haven't. I promise."

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I'm sorry for making you wait for this and then for it to be crap... I guess it's gonna take me a while to get back into it...

For those of you who don't know, _Conversations_ has been deleted- more details on my profile. Sorry (again)

R&R please...


	8. Don't Leave Me

OMG. Did you ever think that I'd ever post another chapter? To be honest, I wasn't sure either... It's changed heaps from what I'd originally aimed for, but I think it only has a few chapters left... hopefully...

D- Not mine...

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Don't Leave Me.

He was running towards her across the empty ground. The air so thick it seemed like he was swimming through glue. He had to reach her before it was too late, before the man in the shadows….

BANG!

He reached her as she began to fall. Her blood staining crimson on her once crisp white shirt. Catching her just before she hit the ground, he cradled her in his arms, watching the life slowly fade from her eyes.

"No Jen," he begged. "Please try… Please… Non andare."

Tears ran down his face, dripping off his chin into her hair. Using the last whispers of her strength, Jen reached up with a shaky, bloodied hand and wiped some of the tears from his cheeks.

"My darling," he whispered, "Please try to hold on"

But she couldn't, her eyes fluttered shut and silence surrounded them. Matt watched as she began to take her last breath, when a sharp, shrill scream pierced the air.

And he woke up.

The last remnants of the dream slipped from his consciousness as Matt jumped from the narrow bed in Jen's spare room. The screaming had stopped, but from the other side of the wall, he could hear the muffled sounds of someone struggling.

He left his room and was about to burst into Jen's before he stopped himself. After running a shaking hand through his hair and taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down, Matt knocked carefully on Jen's closed door.

"Jen? It's me. Are you alright?" He asked tentatively. There was a gasp and a sob from behind the closed door, and Matt took this for an answer. He gently opened the door and peaked inside.

Haloed in the soft beam of the streetlights outside and draped in white cotton, the dishevelled woman in the bed in front of him was the closest thing to angelic that Matt had ever experienced. As he stepped closer to her, he noticed the glossy tracks of tears on her cheeks and the rapid heaving of her chest.

Matt sat down on the corner of the mattress and repeated his earlier question. "Are you alright?" It was obvious that she wasn't, but he couldn't move forward until she let him.

"Oh Matt," she whispered, and burst into tears.

He moved closer, sitting up against the headboard he pulled her into his arms and she curled into his chest

"Is there anything I can do?" He desperately desired to help her, but was couldn't work out how.

And then, from down beside his heart came her response.

"Just don't leave me."


End file.
